


second chance at a first impression

by fangirl_squee, madelinestarr



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-Season/Series 01 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9406955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinestarr/pseuds/madelinestarr
Summary: Peter stops by Juno's office to visit, and finds Rita instead. Rita is ... unhelpful.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the season one finale, so minor spoilers for all of season one.
> 
> Thanks to Sophie, for betaing (we love you Sophie!!)

Hyperion City didn’t seem to have changed much in the time Peter had been away. It still had the same towering buildings and grimy streets it always had. Juno’s office looked the same too - it had the same flickering neon outside, the same scratched lettering on the door, the same bubbly receptionist. The only difference was, this time the man himself was missing. 

 

“And you’re  _ sure  _ you don’t know when he’ll be back?” said Peter, layering charm into his voice.

 

“Sorry, Agent Glass,” said Rita, “You know how detective work is.”

 

“Well, as you are his secretary, may I leave a message with you? It’s quite urgent he gets it. I’ve been out of town for... awhile. I don’t know when I’ll be back in again, so it’s very important that I see him before I leave.” 

 

Peter hoped that Juno was still enough of a workaholic to check his messages even when he was out on a case. He’d really wanted to see that bright eye again before having to return to the Outer Rim. 

 

“I’ll see what I can do, Agent Glass, and I mean that. But I gotta tell ya, he’s out  _ all day _ and  I have strict orders to not call him unless it’s an emergency.”

 

“Yes, of course. I understand,” said Peter smoothly, “Thank you, Ms Rita. Will you tell him that--”

 

_ Knock knock _

 

Apparently some things in Hyperion City  _ had _ changed.

Peter lowered his voice to a whisper. “When did people start knocking in this city?”

 

Rita checked the security viewscreen. From his angle, Peter could see a group of moderately well-dressed and extremely well-armed men waiting by the office doorway.

 

“Ohhh, they weren’t supposed to be here ‘til this afternoon,” said Rita.

 

“Sometimes invited guests do show up early to the party,” said Peter.

 

Rita looked at him as though she’d forgotten he was there. She bit her lip.

 

“I’m gonna have to ask you to wait in Mr Steel’s office, Agent Glass,” said Rita quietly, “I don’t think they’re the kind of people that like surprises.”

 

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Ms Rita,” said Peter, matching her tone.

 

One of the men banged on the door. “Open up, Steel!”

 

Rita pushed him towards Juno’s office, ignoring his protests. “Now, I’m serious Agent Glass. Stay here --oh, you should probably get behind the desk or something, that’s what they always do in movies --don’t make any noise, don’t touch anything, and don’t bother trying to climb out the window. The fire escape creaks something awful in the winter. And every other season too.” 

 

She closed the door before Peter could step back out of the office. The door’s lock hissed as it clicked shut, which was a higher level of security than Peter would have expected Juno to employ. 

 

Juno had a small security viewscreen on his desk, a split screen of the outside hallway and the reception area Peter had just come from. The group of armed men were still waiting in the hallway. Rita checked the lock on Juno’s office door and settled behind her desk, putting her feet up and picking up one of the files on her desk.

 

One of the men banged on the door. “Hey! open up or we’ll open it up for you!”

 

Rita took a deep breath, and pressed something under her desk, buzzing them in.

 

The men formed a large group around Rita’s desk, and Rita slowly looked up.

 

“Are you Juno Steel?”

 

“That depends,” said Rita, her voice a few octaves deeper than her normal voice, “who’s askin’?”

 

“Anthony Brooks,” said one, putting both hands on her desk to lean over Rita, “I believe I paid you quite a sum of money to look into something for me. Have you got what I wanted?”

 

Rita swung her feet down. “I got your info, but I don’t know if it’s gonna be what you wanted. The good news is that Clary ain’t cheatin’ on ya. The bad news is the reason he’s been sneakin’ out so much is that he’s been selling your shipping info to the competition.”

 

She opened the file she’d been reading and spread the contents over the desk. It was documents of some kind, and photos, but the viewscreen footage was too grainy for Peter to make out any of the details. The other men in the group all looked to Anthony, who was staring down at the photos.

 

“What happens now?” said the man to Anthony’s right, after a few moments of silence.

 

“Well, it can go a couple of ways,” said Rita, “I can take this info to the proper agency, hand it over to them, let them deal with Clary and his associates, but that way can sometimes but a little long and… legally messy. I know how some people get about lawyers bein’ involved.”

 

“What’s the other way?” asked Anthony, his voice hoarse.

 

“I give you the file, and you deal with it internally,” said Rita.

 

“You know,” said Anthony, “you’re right about getting lawyers involved, they always make sorting out these things far longer than they should.” He paused. “How do I know you won’t take this to the HCPD?”

 

“Your business is your business Mista’ Brooks,” said Rita, pushing all the documents and photos back into the file, “Part of what your pay me for is confidentiality about any part of that business I might gain insight into durin’ the course of my investigation.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

Rita held out the file. “You can’t be a private eye with the  _ private _ part of it. My assistant will send your people the expenses invoice.”

 

Anthony nodded, and signalled to his men. “Pleasure doing business with you, Detective Steel.”

 

Rita waited until they’d left, then got up and checked the door, making sure it was secured. She leaned back on it, letting out a deep breath. She stayed like that for a moment and then moved towards Juno’s office door. Peter turned towards the window, looking out across the city.

 

“Sorry about that, Agent Glass,” said Rita, her voice back to her normal tone.

 

“Perfectly understandable my dear Ms Rita,” said Peter, “those don’t seem like the kind of gentlemen who would have appreciated an appearance by a Dark Matters agent, no matter how innocuous the reason for the agent’s visit! But tell me, why was it that you told them you were Juno?”

 

“Oh no,” said Rita, wagging her finger, “I was  _ real  _ careful never to say that, Mista’ Steel says we could get in real trouble for doin’ that and there was this big storyline on  _ As The Earth Turns _ just last month about where Calrissian told these guys he was really his twin brother Hugo and then he got in all  _ sorts _ of trouble, so I’d  _ never _ do that. But I can’t be held legally responsible for other people’s assumptions of what my name is, and there’s plenty of precedent on my side about that.”

 

“Still,” said Peter, “it seems like an awfully dangerous thing to do.”

 

Rita shrugged. “Well, they weren’t goin’ to wait for Mista’ Steel to get back, and they’re not the kind of people who are willin’ to meet with Rita, so I just had to make something else work. Besides, Mista’ Brooks’s business is mostly based off-world, so he’ll never know.”

 

“Juno is foolish to underestimate your skills,” said Peter. 

 

Rita gave him an odd look. “Oh no, Mista Steel’s got me estimated just the right amount. It’s other people that don’t seem to be able to get it right.”

 

“Speaking of our beloved detective,” said Peter, “Do you think he’ll be getting back soon?”

 

Rita started straightening out her desk. “I really couldn’t say either way, Agent Glass. I wouldn’t want you to wait around all day for him.”

 

“Why, it just so happens that I have the day free!” said Peter.

 

“You do?”

 

“I do!” said Peter, brightly, “I’m  _ sure  _ I mentioned it before? Perhaps it slipped my mind. But no matter! It just means we’ll be able to get to know each other better while we wait to hear from Detective Steel.”

 

Rita looked unexpectedly startled. “Well, I mean, if you’ve got the time to do that, Agent Glass --”

 

“And I do!” said Peter, “Now, Rita, tell me --”

 

The phone rang, and Rita grabbed it before it even had the chance to get through the first ring.

 

“Hello? Hi, Franny, what -- _ No! _ ” said Rita, hey eyes widening, “I can’t believe it! Hold on.” She wedged the phone between her shoulder and her ear, typing furiously. “Ohmygawd, I still can’t believe it.”

 

“What is it, Ms Rita?” said Peter, “Has something happened to Detective Steel?”

 

Rita looked up. “No, he’s fine, it’s Eric and Alexandria Novus.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Eric and Alexandria Novus,” said Rita slowly, “they play the Raz and Zahia Gadantas on  _ Moonlight News _ , and they’re married in real life too, only not for much longer because they’re gettin’ divorced, it says so right here,” she said, pointing to the screen.

 

“I see,” said Peter.

 

Rita frowned. “What? Oh, no, that’s Agent Glass … no, not him,  _ Agent Glass _ , I told you about him, remember?” She clicked her tongue, scrolling down the screen. “I just can’t believe it, they always seemed so happy, I mean, they just adopted that puppy, but I suppose you never know.”

 

Rita continued on for a few more minutes, going back and forth with the person on the other end of the line as they dissected the article announcing the Novus divorce, the performance of both Novuses in previous episodes of  _ Moonlight News _ where their fictional counterparts had overcome stress in their relationship, and how this news might affect future storylines.

 

“I’ll just take a seat, shall I?” said Peter.

 

“Sure,” said Rita, “oh, not you Franny, that was Agent Glass again. Anyway, so remember when Raz had that accident  _ way _ back in season three, and he lost all his memories except for how he knew the necklace was important? Well,  _ now  _ I’m thinkin’ that  _ maybe _ -”

 

Peter tuned out.

 

There was only one seat in the reception area, a long, well-worn blue couch opposite Rita’s desk. It creaked slightly as he sat down, but thankfully didn’t seem in danger of collapse. The sun had broken through the smog clouds and was shining through the window, warming the air of the room. The sort of weather that makes you want to close your eyes and let the background noise of an excitable receptionist soothe you to sleep, especially if you’re the kind of person who took an exceptionally long trip to get here and aren’t very good at sleeping on shuttles.

 

Peter resisted the urge to rub his eyes, because that’s not what Agent Glass would do. Agent Glass was a smooth man, a man willing to sit and smile and wait in this reception area as long as he had to. He didn’t tap his foot impatiently, or let his head tip back in the warm morning light, or let himself relax in the waiting area of a Hyperion City Private Detective.

 

He must have been out of practise at being Agent Glass (or perhaps he was just more tired than he thought), because he felt as though he only let his eyes close for a moment, and when he opened them again the light outside the window had changed from morning to late afternoon.

 

“Sorry Agent Glass, did I wake you?” asked Rita.

 

She was over by the room’s lone filing cabinet, her hand still on the handle of one of the old, earth-iron drawers. 

 

“Not at all, Ms Rita,” said Peter, recovering, “I had merely entered a state of deep meditation. I find it helps to combat the stress of travelling by shuttle.”

 

Rita’s face softened. “Maybe you should tell Mista’ Steel about that. He ain’t been sleepin’ too good lately either.”

 

“No?” said Peter, trying to sound a casual as possible.

 

Rita nodded, turning to pull open another drawer. “Mmm, ever since he came back hurt from this job a few months ago.”

 

“Should he really be out by himself in that condition?”

 

Rita looked over at him again. Peter had carefully schooled his expression into one of distant concern, troubled but not overly so.

 

“Mista’ Steel can take care of himself,” said Rita.

 

“I take it that means you still haven’t heard from him?”

 

Rita sighed, returning to her filing. “Not yet, Agent Glass. But like I told you before, I don’t know when he’s plannin’ on checkin’ in.”

 

Peter drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. Being in one place for so long hadn’t suited him in a long time, and waiting never had.

 

“You seem remarkably unconcerned.”

 

“I’ve worked with Mista’ Steel a long time,” said Rita, “he usually only checks in during a case if he needs somethin’.”

 

Peter got up and walked towards the window. The smog had returned while he was asleep, coating those part of the city lower to the ground in a red-grey haze.

 

Rita picked up a pile of files from her desk and fell out, spilling its contents over the ground. She dropped the other files, quickly trying to collect the papers.

 

“Allow me to help Ms Rita,” said Peter.

 

“Oh no, you really don’t have to -”

 

Peter gathered the pages together. They were very unusual. No real written notes of any kind, the occasional tabloid article or photo, but mostly the spilled file seemed to be sketches.

 

“I had no idea our Detective Steel was such an artist," said Peter.

Rita snorted. “Mista Steel can barely write legibly, see?" 

 

She held up one of the small sticky notes attached to a detailed drawing of a fountain, squirting for a moment at the scrawled handwriting. “That either says ‘check alibi’ or ‘chicken lab’.”

 

“Then who  _ is  _ the artist?”

 

“Well I don’t know if I’d call myself an  _ artist _ ,” said Rita, “they’re my case notes. Mista’ Steel likes me to keep them on file in case we need them for future reference.”

 

“Your … notes.”

 

“Yeah,” said Rita.

 

Peter looked at the paper closely, trying to see any hidden figures or signs of invisible inks.

 

“I’m sorry, Ms Rita, I really don’t understand how this drawing could be an invaluable case note.”

 

“You’ve just got to be able to read it right, see?” Rita picked up a still life sketch of a woman looking out the window, steam rising from her coffee cup. “This says woman aged 32, space shuttle hostess, witness to Cal- I mean,  _ the suspect  _ boarding shuttle TRQV9-667, stated that her impression of said suspect was that he was moderately wealthy and spoke to her about a business venture on Saturn that he was real excited about. Hostess could not account for the suspect’s whereabouts during the flight time but was adamant in her statement to police of his innocence --and see here, Mista Steel’s written something here that says ‘payoff’” Rita paused, turning the sticky note slightly, “or ‘layoff’, or maybe ‘parrot’.”

 

Peter paused. “That … seems like a confusing way to file notes.”

 

Rita shrugged. “Mista’ Steel don’t complain, and besides, no one else is supposed to be readin’ them.”

 

Peter looked down at the drawing of the woman. She looked vaguely familiar. It took him a moment to place her before he remembered: shuttle TRQV9-667. He’d been on that shuttle, although he’d spent most of that shuttle ride in the cargo hold breaking into a safe.

 

“What did you say the suspect’s name was again Ms Rita?”

 

“Calligan Hoover Jr, just like it says on the --oh.” Rita froze, looking at Peter with wide eyes.

 

“I suppose the jig is up for both of us, my dear.”

 

“It’s not my fault,” said Rita, “you’re the one that came in here sayin’ you were Agent Glass.”

 

“And you weren’t fooled for a second, I suppose?”

 

“Well, I got a pretty good look at you when you were in here the first time, Mista’ Nureyev,” said Rita, “and Mista’ Steel told me about what happened with … you know. The Martian lady.”

 

“Juno told you about Miasma?”

 

“Part of my job is to look up stuff that Mista Steel might need to know, and when you’re researching ancient Martian artifacts her name comes up a  _ lot _ .”

 

Peter thought back to Anthony Brooks, refusing to see receptionist-Rita and then being utterly taken in by detective-Rita because of his own expectations. Brooks had expected Juno Steel, so that was what Rita gave him. Peter had expected Rita the ditzy receptionist, so that’s what she’d given him.

 

Peter sighed. “Juno’s not coming back to the office at all today, is he?”

 

“No, he’s not.” Rita hesitated, then added, “I made him stay home today to get some sleep.”

 

“How do you make someone like Juno Steel stay home?”

 

“I lock him in his apartment.”

 

“You… what?”

 

“I lock him in,” said Rita, “it was one of the features I added when I put in his security system, and a good thing I did, too otherwise he’d never get any rest.”

 

“He is quite the hard worker,” said Peter. He sighed. “I suppose I should go. Please, give Juno my best wishes.”

 

“I was goin’ to go around tonight to check up on him,” said Rita, “if you’re still goin’ to be planetside in half an hour you can give them to him yourself.”

 

“I - are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

 

“I’m sure Mista’ Steel would be happy to see you,” said Rita.

 

Peter wished he had half her confidence.

 

Rita took a couple of files with her. “I promised Mista’ Steel I’d bring a report on anythin’ that happened while he was out.”

 

“Does that include masquerading as him to face down a fearsome group of gangsters?”

 

“Hey!” said Rita, “I never said that I was him!”

 

Rita pulled up in front of a small store about a block away from Juno’s apartment.

 

“Mista Steel’s always out of food,” said Rita, by way of explanation, “I’ll be right back.”

 

She emerged ten minutes later, arms laden down with bags. 

 

“Well,” said Peter, “I certainly hope Juno’s hungry.”

 

Rita gave him a look. “I bought dinner for the three of us tonight, so I hope you’re stickin’ around that long.”

 

“I wasn’t planning on leaving until tomorrow.”

 

Rita nodded. “Good.”

 

Getting into Juno’s building was a lot different the second time around. Instead of sneaking in via the rickety fire escape, Rita waved to a woman through one of the first floor windows, who buzzed them in immediately.

 

Rita knocked, and then pushed the doorbell, leaning on it hard. Peter could hear the annoying buzzing inside the apartment, accompanied by Juno’s muffled grumbling.

 

“Yeah yeah, I’m --oh,” said Juno, holding the door open and staring at Peter, “What are you doing here? You know what, never mind.”

 

Juno moved to shut the door but Rita's foot stopped him as she pushed her way past Peter and Juno, inside the apartment.

 

“No, no, Mista’ Steel, you don’t need to help with these bags at  _ all _ , me and Mista’ Nureyev only carried them all the way here so you’d have something to eat.”

 

“You… helped Rita carry the bags,” said Juno, looking at Peter.

 

Rita set the bags down on Juno’s cluttered kitchen bench dramatically. “He’s been keepin’ me company all day, and so I said to myself, I said ‘Rita, that Mista’ Nureyev should have something as a thank you’, and since I was already comin’ over here I thought what’s a nicer thank you than a good meal?” She fixed Juno with a look. “Now are you goin’ to help with these bags or not?”

 

Juno laughed. “I guess I’m helping with the bags.” 

 

He stepped back to let Peter inside, and they set the bags down next to Rita’s. Rita had already begun to unpack some of her’s.

 

Rita looked Juno up and down. “You’re lookin’ better today Mista’ Steel,” she said quietly.

 

If this was better, Peter didn’t want to think about what Juno must have looked like  _ before _ he’d spent the day sleeping.

 

“I’ll get the food ready,” said Rita, “you should go sit down.”

 

“I just slept for ten hours Rita,” said Juno, “I don’t need to sit down.”

 

“But before that your were awake for twenty hours,” says Rita, “so go sit down.”

 

“Rita -”

 

“Oh, you think I can’t handle getting out knives and forks for takeout?”

 

Juno sighed, gesturing for Peter to follow him out of the little kitchenette.

 

Juno moved a pile of clothes off the couch for Peter to sit down next to him.

 

“Were you really with her all day?” asked Juno.

 

“In my defence, I thought meeting you at your office would be more of a neutral ground than meeting you at your apartment,” said Peter.

 

“I can’t imagine that was too thrilling for you.”

 

Peter hummed noncommittally. “I did get to see some of her drawings. She’s very talented, Juno.”

 

“Her drawings?” said Juno, “Oh, you mean her notes.” 

 

“Oh not you too,” said Peter, “art can have a message, certainly, but you can’t expect me to believe you can  _ read _ them like that.”

 

Juno grinned. “It took me a while to learn but you gotta admit, it’s a pretty good system to have unhackable files in this line of work.”

 

“Perhaps one day i’ll learn to decipher them.”

 

“I think you’d need to get on Rita’s good side for that,” said Juno, “Although it looks like you’ve gotten a pretty good start on that already.”

 

Rita came out of the kitchenette carrying takeout containers. “What are you two talking about?”

 

“I was just telling Juno about our day,” said Peter, “you do amazing work.”

 

“You hear that?” said Rita, “I’m the best assistant you’ve ever had.” 

 

“You’re the  _ only _ assistant I’ve ever had,” said Juno. 

 

“Of course I’m the only assistant you’ve ever had,” said Rita, “why would you need another assistant when you’ve already got the best one?”

 

“Well, it’s impossible to argue with that logic,” said Juno, “how was the rest of your day?”

 

Rita paused. “Now Mista’ Steel, before you go gettin’ yourself worked up I want you to know that I had the security system on the whole time.”

 

“What would I be getting worked up about, exactly?”

 

“About how Mista’ Brooks came by to get those photos and--”

 

“Brooks came by the office  _ today _ ?” said Juno.

 

“Oh,” said Rita, “I guess Mista’ Nureyev didn’t get to that part yet.”

 

“No,” said Juno, “he didn’t.”

 

“It was all fine,” said Rita, “he came in, got his photos, and paid his final invoice and everythin’.”

 

Juno snorted. “ _ Clients _ . Brooks made a big fuss about not wanting Rita to handle the photos when I first took the case, and then at the end of the day he didn’t even care.”

 

“ _ Um _ ,” said Rita.

 

“Rita,” said Juno warningly, “did something else happen?”

 

“Well you weren’t there Mista’ Steel, and I knew you weren’t coming in and he de _ man _ ded to come in today and get them, but he said over the phone that he wouldn’t see me and so when he got there I just sort of let him assume I was you.”

 

“ _ Rita _ ,” said Juno.

 

“It all went fine!” said Rita, “it’s not a big deal.”

 

Juno’s face said it  _ was _ a big deal. “He could have reacted very badly to those photos.”

 

“But he  _ didn’t _ ,” said Rita. She turned to Peter. “Mista’ Steel never wants me to get in the way.”

 

“I’m sure he just wants to keep the all danger for himself,” said Peter, looking over at Juno.

 

“I guess that makes sense,” said Rita, “You’re pretty dangerous, and he’s the jealous type.”

 

Juno blushed. “ _ Rita _ .”

 

“Oh, will you look at that!” said Rita, picking up her phone, “Franny just sent me a message saying she needs me --”

 

“She did not,” said Juno.

 

“--so I have to go, but you two have a nice night,” finished Rita, “Keep an eye on him for me, Mista’ Nureyev, make sure he gets some rest.”

 

“It would be my pleasure, Ms Rita,” said Peter.

 

“See you tomorrow, Mista’ Steel,” said Rita cheerfully, on her way out the door, “I left the case files on the counter!”

 

And then, for the first time in a long time, Peter was alone with Juno.

 

Juno looked down, picking at a worn seam of the couch.

 

Peter sighed. “I suppose I should go too, although I’ll spare you the made up excuses.”

 

“You don’t--” Juno swallowed, and tried again, “you don’t have to go, Peter.”

 

“I won’t stay where I’m not wanted, Juno,” said Peter, “And you didn’t exactly seem pleased to see me earlier.”

 

“Well, you’re here now, you may as well stay,” said Juno, “and I do. Want you, that is.”

 

“Juno,” said Peter softly, “look at me.” Peter put his hand under Juno’s chin, tilting Juno’s face up towards him. “Do you really mean that?”

 

“I do,” said Juno. His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Please stay. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

 

From the moment they’d met, he’d never been good at denying Juno anything, or denying himself anything when it came to Juno. He cupped Juno’s cheek, looking deep into the eye he’d missed so much over those long months.

 

“Of course,” said Peter, “of course I’ll stay.”

 

Juno leant into his palm. Peter drew him forward slowly, gently. The universe narrowed to the small couch, to the space of their heartbeats.

 

It was nice to know that even Hyperion City was full of small consistencies, like Juno’s slow rhythm of breaths in between kisses.

 

It was also nice to know that Hyperion City was also full of changes too, like the feeling of waking up to Juno still asleep beside him. Any talking they had to do could wait until after that.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: madelinestarr | mariusperkins


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